


Lemon Boy

by Austinonymous



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Aerith is too, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Gang Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Internalized Homophobia, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Team as Family, Tifa is a great friend, Wall Market (Compilation of FFVII), the Don and his goons aren't good people y'all, the problems with Wall Market
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:07:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24516649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Austinonymous/pseuds/Austinonymous
Summary: (Warning: The Don and his Men in-game hold auditions to select a woman to be his and the rest get given to his men to abuse. As such, this fic will reference a LOT of sexual assault and abuse situations and have a lot of homophobic stuff from the Don and his boys. No sexual assault will happen on screen, but reader-discretion is advised.)Wall Market wasn't nice. The Don wasn't nice. The Don's men weren't nice.But Leslie... he just had to make it work. Someday he had to get revenge for his fiance, and if that meant being cold and squashing any of himself that didn't feed into the type of person the Don demanded he be.Then he runs into a certain blond ex-SOLDIER one day and... maybe this guy will be the answer to his problems.Assuming Leslie doesn't get himself killed before then.
Relationships: Leslie Kyle/Cloud Strife, Tifa Lockhart/Cloud Strife (one-sided past)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 71





	1. The Bitterest Boys In Town

“I’m here for Andrea,” Leslie’s eyes roamed lazily as he stood in the midst of the glitz and glamor of the beloved Honeybee Inn. Well, it wasn’t beloved by his boss except for the girls it directed his way on occasion. A tasteless trade done amongst sparkling confetti and gilded balconies that allowed the establishment to thrive in the crowded alleyways of Wall Market with the permission of the Don. Not like he could blame them. Nobody got anywhere without the Don’s permission, as much as Leslie hated to say that. Hell, he worked for the fat fuck, so he was intimately familiar with how quickly people could lose everything should they earn the powerful man’s ire.

And so, here he was on the Don’s behalf to make sure that Andrea’s usual payments to the Don were given up. It was the sort of job that Leslie would pawn off to a grunt lower on the ladder, but since Andrea and the Honeybee Inn were part of the lucrative Triad, there was more money involved in this exchange. A lot more. Enough to make not only Don Corneo antsy about a grunt picking it up, but also Andrea. Some small-time fresh grunt with little brains could see the amount of cash he was being handed and want to run off with it. 

Leslie knew better than to do that- he was in far too deep to do something so stupid at the sight of a briefcase stuffed full of cash. And with his reputation as the Don’s enforcer meant he wouldn’t be mugged on the streets for carrying it.

The attendant standing behind the welcome desk bowed ever so slightly, eyes roaming Leslie’s lean form. That made his eyes roll a bit; freaking Darian couldn’t keep his looks from being noticeable. Guy probably didn’t even try to hide it. It was goddamn annoying, but at least those who worked at the Honeybee Inn were never grabby or forceful. It was hard to be that sort of asshole when you knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of advances like that.

“Of course sir- Andrea is waiting for you in his office in the back. I’m sure you know the way, unless you would like an escort?” Darian asked with a raised eyebrow. Leslie snorted just a little bit, waving that question away. The receptionist shrugged with an easy-going smile as Leslie turned away from him and worked his way between the girls wearing bee costumes and the boys in the top hats and tails.

The layout of the Honeybee Inn was a bit complicated, with a lot of back-rooms and narrow hallways so that the Honeyboys and girls could easily move around the building and get to where they needed to be, and get out again just as easily. Thankfully for Leslie, that meant a lot of ways to avoid all the perverts who littered the establishment. It was a respectable building, but respectability only went so far in this town before even the most seemingly respectable of people lost all their morals and had you pinned down in a position you'd rather not be in. 

Plus some people got a bit too drunk in here, and after the time he’d gotten mistaken for an employee and ended up with his body pressed against the wall- a small shiver squirmed under his skin. Well, Leslie was just glad that sick fuck had been banned after Andrea bailed him out before anything happened he regretted. 

Leslie raised his hand and knocked on the door to Andrea’s office and dressing rooms and a sultry, “Come in,” floated through the door. Not wasting any time, he opened the door and went into the room. It was a large plush accommodation, with lavishly decorated furniture in reds and gold, with black leather and black rugs accenting the rich and ostentatious feeling it radiated. Sitting in front of a mirror, legs crossed and hand carefully folded on the knees, was Andrea. Flittering around him was Michael, who was doing the owner’s makeup while a couple of Andrea’s girls sat in some of the chairs throughout the room.

“Oh Lez~!” One of the girls squealed as she hopped up and moved over to Leslie as he turned his bored expression to her, raising an apathetic eyebrow.

“What is it, uh…”

“Regina!”

“Right. Regina. What did you need?”

She huffed at his uncaring attitude, and gave him a gentle smack on the arm, “You promised us all you would show up some time to see the show! You know we’ve been waiting to show you the new routine!”

Leslie could practically feel Andrea’s smirk on him and it made him mentally scowl more than he already was. He pushed a couple of silver bangs out of his face, “Sorry, no can do. Got too much work for the Don and you know how he is. He doesn’t have time for lazy people.”

A snicker came from Michael as he worked on Andrea’s eyeliner with a thin brush, “Oh that’s just ironic isn’t it Andi- Corneo doesn’t like lazy people!” The Honeyboy giggled in a high pitched tone that made Leslie want to rub his temples to get out of his head. Planet, Andrea’s people were tiring.

“Now now, my boys and girls, let’s not harp too much on dear Leslie; the poor boy is trying his best after all,” the low and sultry voice of Andrea floated over as Michael finished the makeup and the tanned man could stand out of the chair. “Besides, we do have business to discuss, and you know how that sort of thing has to go.”

That earned some sad groans from the rest of the entourage, but it was understood well enough by them; these sorts of meetings were not altogether uncommon given the nature of a crime syndicate running the show in this area of the Sector. They all filed out of the door Leslie came through, his eyes studiously avoiding catching their gaze so he could avoid any more comments from the excitable entourage.

“So, you got the Don’s money Andrea?”

All Leslie got was an eye roll from the older man, “Darling you really must learn to slow down. The Don may wait for no man, but we have time to discuss our non-business affairs don’t we?” Andrea sat down on the edge of the central desk, hands rest on the gold-trimmed edges of the mahogany furniture.

And were it any other day, Leslie would probably just brush aside such attempts at pleasantries. But there was definitely stuff that needed to be said. Planet knows no one else would listen to him and his shit.

“The Don is going to have another audition soon. For one of his brides.” 

Andrea’s face betrayed no emotions, though the ever-warm and sparkling eyes of the man dimmed just a little bit. “Ah, I can see why you aren’t in the most cheerful of moods Leslie.”

Yeah. It was pretty damn obvious, wasn’t it? 

“It's getting tougher to deal with them. Not to mention trying to get people to mind their own damn business when the boys are given the ‘leftovers’,” Leslie growled, and god wasn’t that just the most disgusting way to refer to actual human beings. But that was just the way it worked in the Don’s world- women meant jack shit except as ways to have a fun time, and good looking pretty boys had to be tough as nails to be taken seriously.

“They’re starting to question your loyalties because you won’t take advantage of helpless women?”

“I work for Don Corneo, what do you think?”

Andrea snorted at that comment and waved the comment away, “You also are one of his most trusted lieutenants. You deal with not only myself, but the rest of the Triad, and you usually act as the head of the mansion’s security detail. Anyone who questions where your loyalties lie because you don’t want to have sex is being absolutely braindead.”

That made the silver-haired man look away and stare into one of the finely-threaded black-and-gold rugs, “Yeah, but the last thing I need is for it to cause rumors. Don’t try and get laid enough times, especially given how hot the gals are that the Don likes, well then people start to question your preferences.”

The bald man’s gaze hardened and Leslie knew he didn’t need to say more. He and Andrea may not have the exact same preferences, but Leslie at least had the privilege of his being unknown. The Don wasn’t exactly a quiet man, and the owner of the Honeybee got to hear the sorts of things Corneo thought about the freakiness of anything that wasn’t a guy railing a chick whenever he visited.

“I’ve told you before Leslie- I will always have a spot for you amongst my Honeyboys. You can manage their shifts, or whatever since I know you wouldn't be a dancer or anything else. The door is always open if you need to get out of there.”

Leslie’s expression softened a bit at that, sighing as he leaned against one of the leather seats in the office; Andrea knew it was a risk to offer such a thing and even more so to have a standing offer. Still, the man was the only one of the Triad who gave enough of a damn about him to extend such an offer. And only a member of the Triad or fuck, the people who pulled Corneo’s strings would be able to guarantee his safety if he bailed on the Don. 

The good thing about becoming an important asset to someone like Corneo is that you learned more of what their organization was like; so, if you had an ulterior motive, you were set.

The bad part was going in was usually a one-way trip in, and if he didn’t have such a damn good reason to take that trip he never would have considered hopping on the boat at all.

“No need to stick your neck out for me Andrea.”

“No need?” Andrea’s eyes roamed over to the door behind Leslie, and he quietly sighed, “Leslie, this whole building is full of things I didn’t need to do. I’m far from a perfect man, but we must do the best we can with the hand we are dealt. Do not throw all your cards away for a meaningless sense of self-sacrifice.”

Leslie looked away at that; he really did forget sometimes how much everyone was sacrificing to deal with Corneo’s bullshit. Only one rule was true in this town- it was either their overlords, the Shinra Electric Company, or some crime boss they left running the streets for them. People like Andrea, who otherwise would just be running a nightclub, were forced to hurt real people just to avoid having their own lives destroyed. And in this, Leslie was really no different. They had to watch out for each other or they wouldn’t have anyone they could trust in this shitty world.

“Thanks, Andrea, the offer’s appreciated. But I need to be in there to find Merle someday- and the only one who knows where she went is Corneo himself,” the silver-haired man sighed, taking his hat off for a moment to run a hand through his long bangs. He didn’t like talking a lot about her with anyone but it was what it was. 

Andrea gave him a sad look, resting his chin in a hand, “Honey, you need to move on or go and find her,” He sighed as he walked over to his desk, “You are staying in a job you are just not cut out for- and let’s be honest with each other, you’re making no progress in finding her. There’s no shame in that, of course, but you need to either find her or move on.”

The younger man stared at Andrea, “I can’t - I can’t just go find her Andrea,” left his mouth earnestly before he realized that was exactly what Andrea was talking about.

The Honeybee proprietor smiled wryly, snapping his fingers, “And there is my point. You are going to torture yourself for who knows how long looking for a girl who could be alive or dead. You might be fooling yourself into thinking you’re mourning but I know better,” the smile turned a little bitter, “You’re just pushing off thinking that you might never see her again. You won’t let yourself consider it- and you need to, or you’ll waste your days away until you’re old and your joints ache.”

Old and aching huh? “Guess you’re talking from experience about the aches, huh? And here I thought the dancing kept you limber.” Leslie crossed his arms, “I'll take your advice into consideration, but it’s time for me to get going. You grabbing the money?”

Hefting the suitcase onto the top of the desk, Andrea spun it around and popped it open for the younger man to look at the contents and count them up. Leslie didn’t waste any more time as he definitely did not want to give the chatty man more time to try and make Leslie confront the problems he most definitely did not have. When everything was accounted for, Leslie nodded and shut the suitcase, hefting it off the table and into his grip, “It’s been good talking Andrea, despite the circumstances. I hope you find someone to recommend to the Don that can handle it.”

It was a wasted sentimentality, but that very much described the relationship between the two of them. A bunch of wasted opportunities and shared grief and regrets. If only Leslie had gotten his fiance out- if only Andrea hadn’t had to get her to Corneo. The silver-haired man bid Andrea a good night and a good show and left the HoneyBee Inn.

Leslie steeled himself for the walk back to the Don’s mansion. Wall Market was glitzy and full of life- it was a swirling tapestry of technicolor sparkles. To people who had lived here long enough, the whole place was like the rest of Midgar. A gem of a city full of life and progress, stranded in the middle of a barren wasteland. It was hard to think of the sector as anything else as he walked his way through the street, gun on his hip as he saw people dancing together in one corner. They were laughing and cheering as they partied to the music of the shop. But even from here, Leslie could see a group of thugs eyeing up one of the women there.

His fingers twitched and the scar marring his chest ached with a phantom pain of a blade sliding its way into his flesh.

There was a reason that even when Andrea and Leslie talked in idyllic phrases and ideological sentimentalities those comments never left the Honeybee Inn’s back rooms. If there was one sort of thing that didn’t keep its veneer of high mindedness, it was a person’s morals when they stayed in Wall Market.

“Leslie!” One of the thugs who worked for Corneo grinned as he walked up to him and threw an arm around his shoulder, which Leslie pushed off. The guy only laughed as Leslie leveled him an unamused look. Let’s see, stupid haircut, barely tanned skin- shit, who was this? The guy didn’t seem to realize that Leslie didn’t recognize which thug he was as he kept talking, “So I heard the Don’s doing another audition right? Something about it happening pretty soon right?”

Of course, that was the subject on everyone’s minds. Fantastic, that was exactly what he wanted to keep thinking about even more. “That’s right, auditions are coming up fairly soon. We’ll be rounding up candidates before long.”

A nasty smile screwed up the thug’s lips even wider, “Oh that’s fan-fucking-tastic, I heard from one of the guys that the Don lets us have some fun with the broads who don’t make the cut. Do we get to contribute women to the selections? There’s a few I know I’d love to get if the Don passes up on them!”

Barely containing his shudder of revulsion, Leslie shook his head, “No can do buddy. Don doesn’t trust just anyone. Got a suggestion, take it up with the Trio. Assuming you manage an appointment.”

“That M lady will be easy to get a hold of and- heh, hey if I do that I’ll be able to get something a little extra in the process!” The thug said enthusiastically as Leslie frowned.

“If you’ve got the money for the luxury course. Trust me, I’ve heard its the one you want.”

The thug paused, “That reminds me Leslie, uh- look you’ve been a pretty good boss and all you know? Like, I don’t like you cause it’s hard to like your boss ya know, and you gotta ride us when we’re shooting the shit or having some fun cause that’s your thing but-” He cleared his throat and the thug rushed on.

“What I’m tryin to say is some of the guys are saying some nasty shit about you behind your back. Like- I know ya probably have a girl or something and got some loyalty to her which, dude I get, but they’re really getting into the Don’s ear I hear about you being some piece of shit fa-”

Leslie growled, shutting the thug up, “I know what they’ve been saying. And while I’m not, its none of their business either way.”

The thug swallowed, “Right right, well, I mean, I just wanted to give you a heads up man cause- I mean I hear the Don’s starting to believe them and like- the other guys are assholes, so if the Don got rid of you for some dumb shit the others are lying about it would suck ass hard.”

“Your concern is noted and is touching, really,” Leslie drawled as he nodded his head, “Trust me, I’ll watch my back.”

“Okay, okay, awesome.” The thug seemed like he was relieved, “I’d talk with ya girl boss, like make sure she’s cool with you going a round with one of the leftovers cause that would really just like, take care of your problems.

That made the silver-haired man rub his face, “Advice noted. Now get going, I need to take this money to the Don,” gruffly, Leslie began moving forward as the Don’s thug got out of his way and left him to his thoughts. Dammit.

He wasn’t fucking gay for not wanting to sexually assault women repeatedly.

Whether or not he liked guys wasn’t something Leslie could even consider honestly. If he was straight cause that’s what he needed to be to survive, well, then he was goddamn straight. But even with that in mind, he couldn’t just go and have sex with one of the women the Don deemed a leftover. 

Shit. What the hell was he going to do?


	2. Like a Weed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, sorry for the short chapter today guys! My computer was actually fried by a lightning strike (Yeah, Im not joking, it was crazy) so I haven't had my computer for most of the month. So while I work on the next chapter, have this little break with Cloud's PoV! Cloud isn't in a great place as we see at the beginning of the Remake, but he was fun to write. Mext chapter we're back to Leslie and we get to see his impression about what Avalanche has done.

Everything was on fire. It roared in his ears and he could barely focus on what his accomplices were saying to him. A glowing orb of materia was pressed into his hand and he rotely nodded along to whatever she was saying as he could feel a line of sweat sliding down the small of his back. 

Fumes. It had to be the fumes from the plant earlier.

As the girl left, he shook his head, rubbing his face as he took a steadying breath. The fires weren’t real- well, not all of them at least. His eyes drifted upwards and the full scope of what exactly they had done came into view. Sirens were wailing, and the people nearby weren’t any quieter. Hoarse, desperate pleas for people to live-

Focus, Cloud. 

Hand running through his fluffy blond locks, Cloud shouldering forward, trying to navigate through the shocked throngs of people staring up at the smoldering Mako Reactor in terror. Whispers ran around him, terse and strained as people tried to come to terms with the fact that someone or some group had just managed to blow up one of the primary power generators for the city, the basis for the entirety of Midgard’s daily operations.

Frankly, Cloud couldn’t bring himself to care.

A haze had settled throughout his mind, a miasma that kept his own emotions blunted and impotent. He wasn’t sure when it had settled but something- something had caused it. Sure he cared about people in a certain abstract sense, but his head was a heady tonic of toxic chemicals and repression. 

Stumbling, he barely managed to stop himself in time before running into a hysterical woman who was unthinkingly stumbling towards a collapsed building that a large sheet of metal had lodged into. This level of destruction was beyond what he had signed up for when this cell of Avalanche has contracted him. 

Of course, he had heard about the terrorist group Avalanche before signing up with this group. Some people believed that they were a single conglomerate that attacked anything run by the ruling corporation Shinra Electric Power Company, but Cloud had in his dealings with this group realized that was far from true. The usual members seemed more like a small rebellion, or an insurrection against the ruling government. This cell of Avalanche on the other hand… even if they hadn’t meant for the bomb they had planted to cause this much damage, they knew that it would be dangerous.

Did Cloud care about that?

…What did Cloud care about at all?

He was a mercenary that was selling his blade and soul to whatever group was willing to pay him. Maybe some people in his shoes would have some sort of code of ethics or qualms about what the group had done but... Well, they hadn’t asked him to hurt an innocent explicitly. Maybe it didn’t mean much when buildings were crushed and roadways were torn up by their actions, but it was enough of a disconnect for Cloud to not think about it much more.

Not that he was able to think much about things these days anyway.

Or maybe he thought too much as he nearly tripped on a bit of rubble as the woman he had been working with called down to him from a higher vantage point. Cloud sighed and began climbing up the collapsed parts of the building so he could get to the other side of the street where the others were. They were heading to the train station from what he could remember in his dazed mind; he was grateful Tifa had convinced them to hire him but…

Well, he knew he already had Shinra as an enemy being a defector from their military branches but in hindsight, it seemed like a bit of a bad move to draw so much attention to himself so shortly after escaping. Hell, he could only imagine the sort of attention a SOLDIER First Class must be drawing to this Avalanche cell. Cloud wouldn’t exactly be shocked if the renewed heat from Shinra when they found out that the blond was helping terrorists meant the leader, Berrett, wouldn’t keep him on.

It wasn’t as if he shared their supposedly high-minded ideals about saving the planet anyways. And his emotionally stunted way of dealing with problems probably came off as callousness to them and they might object to that. 

After all, they justified that hurting people is a necessary evil to stop Shinra. 

Cloud was not so noble.

Maybe at one point, he had been, but his time in combat had taught him to be ruthless if he didn’t want supposedly-dealt-with problems coming back to bite him in the ass. The fact that they were so hung up over collateral damage when they were fighting Shinra was laughable.

Shinra- that damn company would destroy its own workers and citizens if it meant keeping power. If Avalanche wanted to dismantle them, they’d have a shit ton of dead people to wade through to get there.

Whether or not they were ready to deal with the fallout of their choices wasn’t Cloud’s problem.

“And here I thought you were more righteous than that… Cloud.”

He froze in the alleyway, eyes widening in terror.

“Sephiroth-”


	3. You Could Win A Rabbit

“Did you hear about the Mako plant explosion?” 

Leslie sighed as he looked up from his cup of coffee at- god, what was this guy’s name? Something plain he was pretty sure- No one had interesting name’s around here. The most unusual names you got were the ones that Shinra used, like, Sephiroth. What sort of person was called something like that? Sounded pretentious as all hell. Course, it wasn’t like that was too weird for Shinra; the damn bastards thought they were above everyone. Down here, everyone was named Johnny or Scotch or Sam something else stupid.

Anyways, focus. This idiot’s name. Leslie’s eyes roamed his scarred eyebrow. Scratches. That’ll work. “You’d have to be literally under a rock to not have heard about the Mako Reactor blowin up. Hell, even if you lived under it, you’d probably still have felt it.”

And that was the kicker really. None of them knew exactly what had happened at first, but it was impossible not to feel the rumblings throughout the city and then the bassy shockwave of the explosion. Then the distant wails of sirens and whirring of choppers flying over the city. The last thing to happen was the tingling smell that seeped into the ever-present smog of the lower plate, flavoring the stench of Midgard with something distinctly… well, something.

It was like something that was always there, but you never noticed it until you came across the source of the smell.

“So yeah. I heard. Doesn’t mean anything for us, however,” Leslie said simply to Scratches before taking another long sip of his coffee. There might not be any star in the steel sky above them but damn if his body wasn’t able to tell that it was way too goddamn early in the morning to be dealing with someone like Scratches. “The Don wants us to do our job the same way every morning, regardless if some assholes blew a reactor or not. It doesn’t power this area and didn’t damage the plate, so it has literally no bearing on us.”

The other man shifted a bit, “Well, yeah, but this is fucking nuts- I mean, I know that terrorists have existed, sure, but they just, destroyed a Mako Reactor! Just got right up under Shinra and blew it sky-high!”

Leslie rolled his eyes- this one had a flair for the dramatics. Though, Leslie would be lying if he also wasn’t at least slightly worried. He had enough on his plate with the Don causing issues as usual and expecting him to clean up his mess, but if someone started kicking the hornet’s nest… “It’s unusual but it did not happen nearby- we’re halfway across the city from Sector 1 and the site of the reactor. Focus on your job.”

The light-haired man stood and stretched- maybe he would get a drink? With nothing on his plate, today would be the day to relax. That made him nod before suddenly freezing as his phone buzzed in his pocket. Leslie pulled it out warily, shoulders tensing a bit as he saw that it was the Don. Planet knows what the hell he wanted right now on Leslie’s day off.

“Don.”

“Leslie! You sound unhappy to hear from me!” The Don cackled into the line, his breath coming over as a heavy static that made Leslie grate his teeth in frustration. 

“Not on purpose I assure you Don; I assume something’s come up.”

“Well, you know how it is. You leave for a day and half of this shit heads get it in their head to pull something,” He could hear the Don growl and kick something, a startled gasp making it obvious what he had kicked. “Dumb shit nicked some gil from the safes and well, I think I need to make an example of this fucker.”

Leslie pulled off his hat to run a tired hand through his hair, “RIght, makes sense. What do you need me to do?” 

“Get rid of the body, obviously. Scotch and Kotch are going to help me fuck him up before leaving him in the courtyard.” Some whimpers of pain and fear could be heard over the line. “Put a bullet in his head and do what I pay you for. And Leslie, buddy,” the tone turned sour.

The young man cleared his throat, “Yes sir?”

“Vet our hires better and I won’t let some of the other boys have some fun roughing up that pretty face of yours. I don’t want this shit happening again.”

That made his back tense, but he forced himself to sound as casual as ever, “Will do. I’ll swing around to pick up the body. Probably dump it somewhere in the sector 6 slums once I’m done with it.”

“Good boy, we’ll leave you a nice present.” The line went dead and Leslie was able to breathe a sigh of relief, even as tension built in his gut. He felt like a fucking Turk, just working for the wrong goddamn group. Scowling, the silver-haired man walked the winding alleyways of Wall Market. Turks were the spies of Shinra, able to disappear whoever they damn well pleased. He wasn’t that good, but Leslie was pretty sure that the Turks had to do the same things to bodies they didn’t want anyone finding.

It was a long walk back from his shitty hole in the wall apartment where he and some of the other men who worked for the Don lived. Some would think that Leslie would be able to afford something better than this but- well he’d wasted so much money looking for his ex-fiance that he didn’t have a lot of money laying around. 

And here he was, about to disappear someone just like the Don made her vanish. If he hadn’t long ago felt his shriveled heart consumed by hate, Leslie would almost feel guilty over the irony. As it was, it was more a matter of survival for himself. He was in too deep and didn’t have anywhere else to go- morals didn’t matter as much as they would otherwise. Huh; it made the enforcer wonder if the Turks ever felt that way as well.

When Leslie finally arrived at the Don’s place, the mess that was the man who had been warning Leslie about the gossip about his preferences was shivering in the courtyard plaza. He barely managed to keep his lips from curling into a snarl and keep a look of impassivity. Did they know that this idiot had been doing something nice for him? Was this another test as Corneo was oft to do, or another piece of the plot that some of the other men were trying to use to discredit him in the Don’s eyes?

Did it even matter who had thought this up?

Leslie sighed as he walked up to the trembling man, his shoes clicking against the stones of the estate. It was quiet, though the silver-haired man could feel the eyes of both his men and Corneo on him, hidden in the crooks and crannies of the courtyard. Maybe some of the men he supervised would be pissed by this, or think him Corneo’s bitch but- well, the latter part had some truth to it. 

They were all Corneo’s bitches down here.

Silver bangs obscuring his face from those watching, he bent to one knee when he got near the man, sighing. “I don’t know whether you were a damn fool or this is politics. So you get an apology anyways,” Leslie murmured softly enough that only his former associate could hear him as he pulled his pistol out. 

Blood dribbled onto the pavement as the man looked up at him, a single intact eye burning into Leslie’s gaze. He did not let his own waver.

“What name do you want me to remember you by. It's the most I can do for you.”

The gun was settled between the eye and the mess that used to exist in the other socket.

“...you think you deserve that?”

“I ain’t here to moralize with you. Your next words are the last you get.”

The grin was toothless and bloody.

“I’m not givin you closure you fuck.”

Smoke was such a pleasant smell normally- the scents of the market and some well-cooked meat. But the smell of gunpowder made Leslie antsy. Grisly scenes crawled under his skin when the scent wafted under his nose. It smelt like iron and burnt flesh. But he still could shoot when he needed to. In part, the smoke was why he couldn’t cook much for himself anymore- though he also couldn’t even stand using cleavers to cut up the meat he bought from the market or the knives to cut sinew-like portions of vegetables.

Leslie grunted as he pushed the wheelbarrow full of trash bags towards the hole in the wall that led from Sector 6 to Sector 7. Odd to some perhaps too was that despite being around the incinerator in the sector quite often nowadays, he didn’t like the smell of anything charring much now either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait guys! Next chapter, Cloud and Leslie will meet for the first time.


	4. Let Me Leave My Soul On Fire

Leslie sighed as he shoved his hands into his pockets, mentally exhausted by the past day or two. Being the Don’s lackey was rewarding in some ways but fuck if he wasn’t sick of it. The last thing he wanted to do was run back to the sleazy town that was Wall Market. He may have grown up in the area but fuck if it didn’t feel stifling these days. Not the way it used to.

Back then was so much different, however. Those were the days where he had to rough it on the streets, days where they had to be able to weasel and squirm their way past the bullshit of society to eke out the barest margin of a living. It was a life without Shinra and the Don, and it was absolute hell but at least he had people by his side. 

After all, Bren always-

Wait, shit, right. Not his name anymore. Granted, the dick hadn’t told him what to use in its place when he’d walked out of Leslie’s life but still. After the amount of times he saved his ass when they were younger, it was the least he could do. The guy had left quite the impression on his young life, even though it had only been a couple of years with him watching over Leslie. 

Well, it was hard to forget someone who had gaudy red hair like that- completely natural, he would always sternly remind Leslie after someone made a snide remark about it -but it was really more than that. All Leslie’s admittedly limited skill in palming objects and sliding into places he wasn’t supposed to be was thanks to his teaching, his tutoring, his, well, total douchebag way of throwing him into the deep end and bailing him out when Leslie failed hard.

It was a couple of years of comradery, and it was in those years he’d first met his former fiance Merle, though they wouldn’t grow truly close for a while yet.

Right. This was why he liked to avoid thinking about those years. He’d start thinking about Merle again.

What was she to him? Andrea had told him to think about it, but what was there to consider? She was most likely dead and buried if she was lucky. That sort of thought made it hard to harbor genuine romantic feelings towards her.

Oh, don’t get him wrong, the silver-haired man had loved her when she was in his life. The tricky business was that it was hard for Leslie to hold onto attachments once they left him. Probably abandonment issues with his parents, some would say, but if Leslie was honest with someone, he’d readily admit that it was a simple product of growing up in the Midgar slums. 

Some of the slums you could build a life, a family, and carve out a permanent home for your offspring. He had never been so lucky. Normality and consistency were never going to be in the cards for him, and if someone left- well, how many of them actually came back?

So sure, he had loved her but all that remained of her was the idea that maybe, just maybe, if the Don hadn’t been the slimeball he was… 

Maybe Leslie could’ve been happy.

Maybe he’d gone too long being Corneo’s man if he thought this but- but honestly? The idea of what Leslie might've lost seemed like enough of a reason to kill him.

Yep, alright. Leslie officially needed a drink. 

He’d heard there was some fancy bar around here built-in some weird style that was totally out of place with the rest of the slums. Called Seventh Heaven, or something of the like. Maybe he’d go see if their famed ‘Cosmo Canyon’ was really worth the fuss he heard when walking through sector Seven.

Mind made up, Leslie turned the corner- only to nearly run into a guy standing right smack dab in the middle of the alleyway. “Hey, you can’t just stand-” He started but trailed off, eyes wandering the sight in front of him in a bit of a daze.

The guy was short- which, to Leslie meant they were about the same height, but with the way the guy’s blond hair fluffed up in large spikes- well, the spikes were taller than Leslie. He seemed muscled as hell, with a knit tank top that left his toned arms exposed. And his eyes were a shining blue-ish green that Leslie had never seen before-

Wait, they were unfocused. The dude was subtly quivering- did he even know Leslie was there?

“Are you alright-” He tried to move a bit closer, maybe reach out, but that was apparently a bad fucking choice as he was suddenly grabbed by the shirt and slammed into the nearby metal wall. Pain lanced through his chest as the wind was knocked clean out of his body, his lungs stuttering and desperately restarting to get air back in.

Yeah, a bad fucking idea.

His hands reached up to yank the hand off of his shirt, but the other guy had already let go, hand yanking backward as if it had been burned. Leslie was able to refocus and look him in the eyes, and awareness had seemingly come back to the man, though each breath working its way into him was just as ragged as Leslie’s. 

The blond’s muscles were still tense but he seemed to be recovering a bit- better than Leslie was at least. “Holy fuck- what sort of workout regime are you on-?” He coughed as he banged his fist against his own chest to recover, missing the bewildered look the other man was shooting him.

“I… You’re not… Very upset.”

“Oh, I sort of am livid, don’t get me wrong but breathing is a smidge more important than being mad,” Leslie snarked back, earning himself an eye roll.

“Then forget my sympathy.”

“Done. Always a dick to people looking to be nice to you?”

That earned him a pause of bewildered consideration- which made him look away as Leslie forced himself to not look this guy in the face for too long. The issue was his eyes, eyes that sparkled and shone with a light that was wholly unnatural. Ethereally beautiful like an angelic being had descended to the planet but haunted in a way that clawed and forced its way into Leslie’s chest, a sort of terrifying panic that felt as if the very earth beneath them was suffering. Perhaps if the man could smile it would offset the calmly chills that squirmed their way up his nerves, but while the honest confusion was endearing, it did nothing to offset the light shimmering in his eyes.

“I’m… sorry. Thanks for the attempt to help? I wouldn’t go around grabbing people who..” The other man trailed off uncomfortably. Leslie sighed in mild exasperation, but didn’t make him finish.

“Yeah. Yeah, that was my bad,” He agreed as he took his hat off for a second to run a hand through his hair before putting the cap back on. “Look, water under the metaphorical bridge. Now, I’ll be on my way-”

Leslie paused, eyes darting over to the guy, “Actually, you from the area? Know where the Seventh Heaven bar is?”

A startled blink was all his comment earned before the guy let out a small cough, “Yeah yeah- I actually was heading over there myself. I can show you the way..?”

Well, Leslie’s luck was doing a bit better despite his back aching now.

“Sure, I could use a guide there. Uh, the name’s Leslie.”

The blondie took Leslie’s offered hand and shook it.

“You can call me Cloud.”


	5. One Brings Shadow, One Brings Light

_You know that this one will not be what it takes to turn the tide against their foe_.

And yes, she did know that, but there was little else for her to do. The Planet was already groaning under the strain of the warping timelines and until the changes were made manifest and permanent, and the dark future they walked unwritten, there was little she could do to ease the Planet’s burden.

“Perhaps, but it will let him be happy in a way. He deserves it.”

_Maybe he does, but we cannot afford to rewrite the timeline yet again should he not prove to be enough. The tainted one walks in the world and even now those ripples are changing things._

That was true. If they failed to help Cloud turn the tide then there would be little else they could do. She hummed a bit, “You’re sure you can handle more changes? I know you said you were too taxed to pull a hero from somewhere else to guide Cloud-”

_A different matter. An order of magnitude times harder to accommodate that which never was meant to exist than... Tweak that which does._

“Then he needs to be stronger. Needs to be able to help Cloud,” She was pacing now, long hair swaying in its ponytail, “We could give him a summon? Those are super powerful and could work.”

Pausing, she shook her head, “No no, he’d still be weak during its cast time, and we gathered all the summons you created and that still wasn’t enough, and I assume that every summon from other worlds would carry the same problem as trying to summon a hero.”

_You assume correctly child. Though perhaps…_

Her green eyes looked up at the Planet, or the presence that is used to commune with her, “You have a solution?”

_A possibility. I cannot pull a hero into this realm… but allow communication between one such hero and this new addition? That perhaps we can manage. We will need to have you serve as the bridge between them for this to work._

Nodding in understanding she bit her lip, “Well, Cloud has met me in the past once already… I’ll come into contact with them shortly thereafter?”

_More drastic changes must be made- the bridge must be established sooner._

Eyes shining with determination, she nodded, “Well, I’ll just have to let myself know the best spot for selling flowers again. Did you have a hero in mind from one of these other worlds?”

_Some candidates… Let me show you-_

* * *

He peered down into the crater, humming aloud to himself. It was, perhaps a foolish idea to think that the arbiters of fate would allow him to merge his new mind into his old form, but it was still something he had thought would work. 

Of course, he was now more god than man, more than he had ever been at any point once before. Even though his mortal form had been already slain once in this world, something as paltry as Jenova was of little value to his divine self.

Wing extending, he floated up into the air and away from the crater as his mind went back to Midgard. As much as he wished to force the merger, that almost certainly would have caused such an overwhelming strain on the timeline that the Whispers would’ve descended on him at once in an attempt to pacify him. Frankly, it could cause premature activation of the WEAPONs, and that was all probably a bit more than he wanted to deal with.

Besides, he had a greater interest back at Midgard. He had warned the blond to run away and live, to escape the possible calamity that would befall the city. The Whispers would be sure to attempt to keep anything from happening to his eternal enemy and companion, but none knew better than he that if fought hard enough, even Destiny would bend to your whims.

Yes, he grinned with his teeth bared as he flew across the land. He was needed in Midgard- and he oh so missed messing with Cloud anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, there will be another final fantasy character that gets to help Leslie get better at fighting! 
> 
> While I do have one character in mind, I'm curious if anyone has any suggestions as to who would work best. I still will have Leslie focus on pistols, just to help narrow the candidate list.
> 
> The next chapter shouldn't take as long for me to get out! I am sorry for the wait; until next time!


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